


Stop, Drop, and Roll in the Hay

by ashes0909, FestiveFerret



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Booty Calls, Explicit Sexual Content, Firefighter Steve Rogers, Friends With Benefits To Lovers, Getting Together, Hook-Up, Inappropriate Use of Fire Poles, M/M, Steve Gets Mistaken For A Stripper, Strip Tease, Tony is Iron Man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:54:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24012409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashes0909/pseuds/ashes0909, https://archiveofourown.org/users/FestiveFerret/pseuds/FestiveFerret
Summary: All Steve's expecting when he goes to Stark's midtown penthouse is to complete a fire safety inspection, sign some forms, and maybe get a peek at the extravagance Stark is so known for.He gets a little more than a peek, and so does Stark.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 71
Kudos: 925
Collections: Tony's Birthday Party (PotsCast)





	Stop, Drop, and Roll in the Hay

**Author's Note:**

> This fic exists because of Discord antics and a single, naughty suggestion by sabrecmc and/or willidothefandango that we ran with ~~like our pants were on fire.~~
> 
> Huge thank you to betheflame for beta!! <3

Steve parked his truck in visitor parking and slipped out. He looked down at his clipboard again, swallowing heavily at the name on the top of the form: Tony Stark.

Technically, Steve's shift was over - and he would have much preferred to go home, microwave something, and veg out in front of the TV - but Stark Industries was a huge donor to the Firefighter's Association and Iron Man was known to help out on the frontlines once in a while, so instead, he had this last stop between him and the half-empty bottle of wine in his fridge. 

Besides, Stark's PA had sounded at her wit's end on the phone. 

Taking that extra course in inspections was coming back to bite him in the ass, though, and he made a mental note to sign Bucky, Sam, and Nat up for the next run so he wouldn't be stuck handling all of these himself.

Steve ran rough fingers through his hair to smooth it back and clipped his phone onto his belt. He wasn't in full kit, but the heavy duty pants and his jacket with "Captain" on the sleeve tended to garner more respect than jeans and a polo. He didn't need to recheck Mr. Stark's apartment number - his was the penthouse. Steve typed in the buzzer code on the sleek touchscreen in the foyer, but no one answered, instead the door unclicked immediately. Steve pushed through and found the elevator, pressing the shiny "P" button. He leaned back against the mirror and sighed at the ceiling. Hopefully this wouldn't take too long.

There was only one door in the hallway, and Steve knocked as loudly as he could. He shuffled his feet, looking down at the carpet while he waited for Stark to answer the door. But when the door clicked open, there was no one on the other side. It swung open, revealing an opulent living room with an open, curving staircase, and a full wet bar, one wall all windows. Steve stuck his head in, eyebrows traveling up towards the ceiling as he took in the extravagant space. "Hello?"

"Hello?" A head appeared around the wall, followed by a man, a man Steve recognized: Tony Stark. Steve had never seen him out of the armour and they'd never officially met. He was somehow smaller in person until his eyebrow quirked up and his personality took up the extra space. Stark snapped a pair of safety goggles up onto his head and raked his eyes down Steve's body with blatant interest. 

Steve took it in stride; he'd posed for the calendar last year, nothing phased him. "Mr. Stark?"

"You're not Rhodey," Stark said, instead of confirming. Not that Steve needed confirmation. That goatee, that smirk, those intense eyes - Steve had seen them all on TV many times before. 

"No, I'm not. I was sent here to -"

"Wait." Stark came around the wall, smirk deepening. He wiped his hands off on a rag and tossed it onto a nearby table along with his goggles. "Rhodey didn't…" He was grinning now.

"Didn't what?"

"Order you. For me. For my birthday."

"No. It was your assistant who asked me to come. I -"

_ "Pepper?"  _ Stark started laughing. "I'm sure Rhodey put her up to it. He said he was going to, but I didn't believe him." Stark shifted closer, eyes bright with humour and something else. "So..  _ hot  _ stuff. Going to show me that hose of yours?"

Steve's mouth fell open, but no words would come out. He blinked at Stark. Was he coming on to him?

"I'd really like to climb up your ladder."

"Mr. Stark."

"Or down it. I'm not picky."

"Mr. Stark." Steve was starting to feel a little breathless as Stark pressed into his space. He was painfully attractive, even more so in person than on TV, which was a feat for sure. But he was a little softer like this, a little rumpled, his t-shirt wrinkled and his hair half sticking up. Steve wanted to wrinkle him more, but it seemed like there'd been a misunderstanding.

"So did you bring your own boombox? Do you still have boomboxes these days? Hey JARVIS, play 'I'm Too Sexy.'"

"Mr. Stark," Steve said firmly. "I'm not a stripper."

Stark went preternaturally still. Then his eyes narrowed. "What?"

"I'm not a stripper. I'm an actual firefighter."

Stark gaped at him. "Rhodey bought me an actual firefighter for my birthday? Even fucking better."

Steve rolled his eyes, unable to stop the smile that curled the corners of his lips. "No one bought me. I'm here to inspect your workshop for Stark Industries' insurance policy. You can't have a home workshop covered by their policy unless it's been inspected for fire safety." Steve waved the clipboard. 

"Oh." Stark deflated. "Well, that's no fun." His eyes raked over Steve again with palpable hunger. "I was hoping to get you naked and slide down your pole.”

Steve was caught between horror at how bad the pun was and arousal at the thought of Stark doing just that. Their eyes met and caught, and Steve found himself unable to speak. Something crackled between them, and Steve's body couldn't help but remind him how long it had been since he'd last been touched intimately. 

"Sorry," Stark said, smirking in a way that suggested he wasn't sorry at all. 

Steve's interest in his microwave dinner evaporated. The only thing he wanted in this moment was Stark. He stared in silence for a moment longer then dropped his own eyes, taking in Stark's full form. He was lithe but muscular, compact. He was wearing jeans that probably cost a month of Steve's rent but had grease stains on them, and a t-shirt that looked like he bought it ten years and twenty pounds of muscle ago. The sharp edge of the infamous arc reactor bulged out a circle of his shirt in the centre of his chest and glowed with soft, blue light. "I could be," tumbled out of Steve's mouth before he knew what he was saying.

"What?" Stark’s eyebrow shot up, eyes burning with hunger. 

"I could be a stripper. For you." Steve licked his lips and pressed forward. "Frankly, I'd be anything for you right now, but if you want to see how the uniform comes off, I could make that happen."

"Jesus Christ." Stark swallowed heavily then reached around Steve's back and slammed the door shut. 

Steve tossed the clipboard on top of Stark's safety goggles and spun around to back him up against the door, bracing a hand on either side of his head. "You sure?" he asked quietly.

Stark answered by grabbing two handfuls of Steve's shirt and hauling him in for a kiss. His mouth was hot and insistent against Steve's but his hands relaxed, giving Steve room to back off if he wanted to, but it was the last thing he wanted. He pinned Stark against the door with his whole body, rolling his hips until Stark moaned. His head was spinning. He'd never fallen into someone so quickly before, but something about Stark was magnetic, drawing him in.

It really had been a long time, and Stark’s hands were a searing line trailing over his back. He gripped Stark’s hips. Then, as Stark moaned, he lowered them down under his perky ass and squeezed. Stark hopped up immediately, wrapping his legs around Steve’s waist so that the only thing holding him up was Steve’s arms and the door. Stark's mouth pulled from his lips, beginning a line of bites down his neck. “We’re really doing this,” Steve gasped, it wasn’t a question. 

“You’re the one in uniform,” Stark replied as he nipped down the dip of Steve’s collarbone. “That means you’re in charge.”

Steve rocked his hips up into Stark, goosebumps dusting over Stark’s lips. “Right now, I think we’re both wearing too many clothes. Bedroom?” 

“Hallway’s that way.” Stark waved a hand across the room, and Steve had never been more grateful for the firehouse’s pushup challenge because he followed Stark’s gesture with the man in his arms, held sure and steady, even with Stark’s grinding hips doing wonders against his own. 

Steve didn’t know anything about the man in his arms but he was learning quickly that he groaned whenever Steve’s hands moved along his ass. 

Stark’s hallway was too long, but finally they stumbled into the bedroom. Steve barely registered the minimalistic design of the decor before tossing Stark onto the bed. Steve watched as Stark situated himself, grinning like a cat getting his cream, pressing his heels onto the bed and pushing himself against the headboard. He took Steve in, his gaze like a slow caress, and when he got to the tent in Steve’s pants he licked his lips. 

Time to strip. Steve smirked, cocking his hip. He knew he looked good; he appreciated it in a way that only someone who used to be frail and sickly could. And it was more than obvious that Stark was enjoying the show. 

He unbuckled his pants, shifting them off one hip, then the other. The heavy uniform fell to the floor, the utility belt making a loud thunk in the silent room. His cock pressed against his boxer briefs but instead of pulling them off next, he turned on his heel so that all Stark could see was his jacket covered back and the tight fabric of his underwear stretching over his ass.

“If only I had some ones, I’d be making it rain right now. JARVIS play, ‘Pony.’”

Steve chuckled, looking over his shoulder at Stark, who was now clenching his hands into the sheets. “I’ll keep that in mind if firefighting falls through.” Then, because this whole night was surreal anyway, Steve winked. 

Instead of laughing, which was what Steve had expected, Stark gasped out a curse. It emboldened Steve and with that extra confidence he pulled the jacked over one shoulder, knowing that the impressive expanse of his back was peeking out inch by muscular inch for Stark to see. 

He turned around when the coat fell from his back, and he hardly let Stark take it all in, before he crawled onto the bed and over him. Steve wanted to feel his smooth olive skin under his hands, kiss and taste every inch of him. Stark didn’t seem to mind, letting his thighs fall open so Steve could crawl in between them. 

“You’re wearing too many clothes.” Steve pulled off Stark’s tight shirt as Stark kicked off his pants. “Efficient,” Steve commented, unable to look away from every new inch he revealed. “You could give some of the guys at the firehouse a run for their money when it comes to a quick change.”

“Are we really talking about your firehouse right now?” Stark paused, sweatpants halfway down his leg. “Actually, lots of ripped firemen taking off their clothes? Keep talking, that sounds hot.”

Steve wrapped an arm around Stark’s back and pulled him into a rough kiss. Finally, they were both naked, and not even an hour ago Steve was grumbling about this assignment, not expecting to be in this man’s bed, in any man’s bed. But his body was aching like it’d be waiting for days, weeks, even longer, to feel Stark against him. 

Steve leaned back from the kiss, taking a deep breath. His eyes couldn't help but drop to the bright blue circle in the center of Stark’s chest: the infamous arc reactor. It was something else, seeing it up close. He forced his eyes back up. “What do you like?”

Stark flashed him a smirk again as he sat up, his gaze following Steve's mouth as he moved, until they were seated close, both breathing heavily. “I like all sorts of things. What do you like?”

“Right now? I really want to push you back down and fuck you senseless.” 

Stark let out an agreeable moan. “I’d definitely like that.”

“Good.” Steve was a man of action and now that they had a plan, he wasted no time at all. Stark felt amazing under him, and Steve lined their hard cocks next to each other while Stark fumbled in the nearby end table looking for something - presumably lube and a condom. 

He grinned when he found it then squirted some on his own hand before tossing it to Steve. He watched as Stark’s hand disappeared between their bodies. 

“You too,” Stark moaned, glancing at the lube.

Steve wasted no time, lathering his fingers and seeking that spot between Stark’s legs that he’d been teasing with short, intent thrusts. “You want me to slide my finger in next to yours?” Steve whispered, the mental image alone driving him wild. 

“Yes,” Stark gasped. “Oh, definitely. That sounds delicious.” Stark rocked his hips. “Come on, do it.” And who was Steve to deny such a request? Stark’s rim was so tight, but the man was determined, bearing down on Steve’s finger as he pressed inside. “Yes.” His gasps turned to moans. “Just like that.” 

Stark loosened under their fingers, and between one thrust and the next, another finger slid inside and Stark was stretching his own hole, and Steve could  _ feel  _ it. A long string of filth spun out of Stark’s mouth in hushed whispers against the pillow. “Fuck, it’s going to feel so good. I can’t believe my luck. God dammit, you’re hot.” 

Steve had to grip the base of his own cock at the sight of Stark arching beautifully when Steve curled his finger. One more press, and he was brushing against that spot deep inside Stark and the man was thrashing with a throaty whine. 

Stark felt loose and ready, and Steve couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled his fingers from inside, smiling when Stark followed suit. Then, with a firm grip on his thighs, Steve spread Stark until he could see his beautifully stretched hole. He took his time rolling on the condom, watching the sensitive skin flutter with want. Steve flipped Stark until his face pressed into the mattress and pulled his hips up in the air, marveling at how easily he let himself be manhandled. 

“Yeah,” Stark whispered, spurring him on. 

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, lining up his cock. “I’m going to make you feel so good.” He slid his head past Stark’s rim. “You said it was your birthday right?” 

“Nngh-- Yes,” Stark managed. “Oh god.” Laughter slipped out between gasps. “Happy birthday to me.”

Steve slid in, sure and smooth, Stark pressing tight against him, all around him, dragging him deeper with every rock of his hips. Steve's hips hit Stark’s ass, and he slid a hand up his back, feeling the smooth muscle against his palm until he was able to wrap his fingers along the back of Stark’s neck. One thrust and they both moaned together, the sound echoing against the walls as Steve sucked in a gasp and picked up his pace. Stark moved under him, meeting every thrust as much as he could, with one of Steve's hands gripping his hip and the other on the back of his neck. 

Every thrust brought Steve closer to the edge, and he slipped his hand from Stark’s waist to curl around and grab at his leaking cock. Stark moaned, a series of incoherent words lost into the mattress with each turn of Steve’s hips. Steve stroked Stark’s cock, hot and hard, velvety smooth under his hand, and when he curled his palm over the head, Stark dribbled more precome from the tip. “You’re so close,” Steve whispered. 

“Fuck--” Stark muffled into the bed. “About to blow out like a birthday candle.  _ Harder. _ ”

Steve rolled his eyes, even as Stark clenched his muscles around him and he obeyed, thrusting harder until their breaths were both broken and rough. He gave up teasing Stark with his hand, and started jacking him off in earnest as he pressed them both closer to release. 

Stark looked so good under Steve, spine curving as he struggled to give as good as he got, saliva leaking onto the sheets, eyes glazed with lust. And, fuck, Steve wanted him to remember, to feel this birthday present long after Steve had gone. The thought of Stark standing in some fancy board meeting, feeling the aching reminder of Steve’s cock in his ass made him go off like a shot, hips stuttering into Stark. 

Stark moaned and arched his back, whispering filth and encouragement, as Steve’s hand barely faltered his pace on Stark’s cock, his hips pushing even deeper as he came. It was like Steve found a spot inside Stark and that, coupled with a twist of his wrist as he stroked him, had him finally going off as well, shuddering under him as he filled Steve’s hand with come. 

They both stilled, nothing but their rough breathing filling the room, until Steve was able to fall back on the bed. The sheets clung to his sweaty back. He couldn't remember sex ever being like that before: frantic and driven and wild, but easy too. An echo of Stark clenching around him made him shudder and sigh.  _ Holy shit. _

After a moment, Stark rolled out of bed with a satisfied groan and pulled on a robe. "You need a shower?"

Steve sat up and blinked at him. "Uh no. I'm fine. I'll just -" He gestured towards the bathroom, and Stark waved him on, disappearing back towards the living room. Steve cleaned up quickly, finding an embarrassing number of dark bruises dotting his skin. He found his clothes - or most of them anyway - and got dressed, then followed Stark back out. His clipboard was still sitting on the table by the door, on top of Stark’s abandoned safety goggles.

Stark, on the other hand, was sprawled across the couch, his robe gapping to show an endless stretch of skin, and he already had a drink in hand. 

Steve picked up his clipboard and waved it in Stark's direction. He leaned over the back of the couch to grin down at him, unable to help the rush of self-satisfaction at how thoroughly fucked-out Stark looked.

He smirked. "Really? Thought I might have done you so well you forgot why you were here."

"Nope. Sorry." Steve winked. "It won't take long."

"Alright, come on then." Stark stood and led the way to a wall of opaque glass with a scanner panel by the door. Stark pressed his hand to the panel, and the door hissed and clicked. Stark pushed it open. "There's a lot of proprietary stuff going on in here. You don't need to take any pictures, do you?"

"No, that's okay. I just have to check a few things and then get a signature. I'll send it in to your insurance company and then you should be okay for a year."

Stark grinned and pushed open the door like Willy Wonka welcoming the ticket winners into his factory. And it wasn't a far stretch. The room was incredible, neat and tidy but filled to the gills with fascinating machinery Steve couldn't even begin to guess the purpose of. "Wow."

Stark chuckled. "Always love a 'wow'. Not that I let many people in here."

Steve turned back to his clipboard, trying to ignore the low cut of the other man's robe. He started working his way down the list - alarms, electrical, heat producing equipment, flammable materials storage - and Stark took him efficiently through the space, pointing everything out.

"Okay, fire extinguishers are next. Where are they located?"

Stark rested a hand on Steve's lower back and steered him across the room. "One there. One by the door, and - uh - that one…"

Steve followed where he was pointing. A metal arm on wheels was rolling over towards them, carrying a fire extinguisher. "Um."

"That's DUM-E," Stark said. "He's in charge of fire safety." He turned his back on the robot and mouthed,  _ He's not in charge of fire safety,  _ while shaking his head side to side.

"Oh. Right." Steve looked down at his form, trying to figure out where to put  _ "seemingly emotionally sensitive robot"  _ as one of the extinguisher locations. Finally he settled on adding  _ "mobile"  _ to the  _ "other" _ section, since the units he'd already seen were enough to pass. "That's it, then. Just need your signature here." He turned the clipboard around and Stark took his pen, peering up at him with a smirk.

"If you wanted my autograph so badly, all you had to do was ask."

Steve's eyes flicked down to Stark's tempting mouth. "Think I have enough marks to remember you by, actually. This one's just for the books."

Stark signed with a flourish and a chuckle, then pressed the clipboard flat against Steve's chest and leaned in, putting his full weight against Steve as he kissed him soundly. "Just checking," he muttered when he pulled back. 

Steve opened his mouth to ask him what he was checking, but Stark was already heading back for the door, shooing the fire extinguisher-waving robot out of his way as he walked. Steve jogged to catch up to him. Stark walked him back to the front door and watched as he pulled his boots back on and made sure his clothes were properly arranged. One of his socks was missing, but as long as he had his whole uniform, he would be fine. Socks were replaceable, and if he went back to Stark's bedroom to dig around and try and find it, he wasn't entirely sure where the night would end up. "Thank you, Mr. Stark."

"Tony."

"Pardon?"

"You've seen my dick, hot stuff. I think you can call me Tony." He winked, and all the tension bled out of Steve's shoulders with a laugh. 

"Okay. Tony…" Something leaked into the name, too soft and too affectionate for complete strangers.

Tony snapped his eyes up and held Steve's gaze for a moment, something intense in his expression, but Steve couldn't quite read what it was. "Well…" Tony dropped his eyes and snatched his goggles back up off the table. "Science waits for no man." He leaned in and peered at Steve's arm patch as he walked by. "Captain Rogers?"

"Steve. And, Of course. I'll get out of your hair. Thank you for being so… accommodating," Steve said cheekily, and Tony barked out a laugh. "Happy birthday. Have a good night."

"Already have. Steve." Tony shot him one more brilliant smile as Steve let the door swing shut behind him.

He took the elevator back down to where his truck still waited patiently in the visitor's lot. He sat in the driver's seat and looked down at the signature on the bottom of his form.

What the fuck had just happened?

**

“It wasn’t Thursday,” Bucky informed, as Steve walked into the communal kitchen the next morning. The firehouse might be old, but they managed to keep the appliances up to date. Bucky pressed a button on the espresso machine and the smell of coffee filled the room. 

“What?” It was barely seven in the morning, and Steve had no idea what Bucky was on about. His mind was still wrapped around last night, lost in Tony. He walked to the other end of the kitchen and poked his nose into the doughnut box.

“League. You were supposed to meet up and play with me and Sam, but you never logged on. Since the only other thing on your tragically empty schedule is your Thursday volunteering, well.” He crossed his arms over his chest like all of that was a question that he'd never actually gotten around to asking. 

Steve waited to finish swallowing a mouthful of maple dip before turning around, wiping his lips against the back of his hand. They were still sore from Tony’s lips against his own, Steve pressed into them hard, rough and taking. 

Steve shook his head. This was no time to think like  _ that _ . He needed to come up with a convincing place he’d been last night that his friends would actually believe. “How do you know I don’t volunteer at the community centre on days other than Thursday, sometimes? They do a different martial arts class on - uh - Tuesdays."

“No,” Sam cut in, walking into the kitchen with his face stuck in a Nintendo Switch. “You don’t.” He looked up and shot Steve a tight grin before sliding out the barstool and settling himself on it. He put the Switch down and turned his focus onto Steve, seemingly happy to occupy as much of the early morning that it took to get his answers out of Steve. “You’re a man of routine, Cap.”

“Which is why it’s suspicious that you completely missed our gaming session,” Bucky added. 

Sam’s eyes narrowed now, and he pushed back from the counter, the scrape of the barstool against the floor making Steve jump. Sam leaned forward and pointed at a spot on Steve’s neck. As soon as his finger hit it, Steve recalled Tony’s lips fastened against the same spot, hips grinding against Steve’s in rhythm with the marking. “I do believe this is a hickey, Mister Barnes.” 

Steve put down his coffee mug harder than necessary, making Sam jump back and Bucky start laughing. “Think you struck a nerve, Sam.” 

But Steve forced out an airy chuckle, relieved that they hadn’t given any thought to his afternoon appointment with Mr. Stark yet. "It's nothing. I caught myself shaving. You guys are just making shit up to entertain yourselves." He kept his lips pressed together, rolling his eyes, and endured a few more minutes of his friends teasing before filling up his coffee again and beelining straight out of the kitchen towards the dorms. 

One of his best firemen and his lieutenant made kissy noises in his wake. When he shut the door on them, silence pressed in on him. The dorm was small, only big enough for a half a dozen twin beds and a couple chest of drawers; Steve went straight to his bed and sat down, head falling into his hands. 

Behind shut eyes, he let himself remember Tony, how he had gripped Steve’s cock, stroking, pulling, teasing, as Steve rolled his hips, filling Tony just like Tony had asked him too, how Steve had offered. Tony had been impossible to resist right from the start.

Steve hadn’t let himself think about it, not on the ride home, or during his quick shower, or even this morning as he drove to the firehouse. But now, in the emptiness of the dorm, the memory of his need and desire flooded through him, leaving one, firm fact, blasting on repeat. 

He wanted to see Tony Stark again. 

**

After a few days of Steve's thoughts wandering to Tony every time they were given free reign, he finally gave in and dug out his file, where Tony’s number stared at him from the top of the page. He couldn't resist using it. 

_ << You busy tonight? This is Steve the firefighter. _

As soon as he'd sent it, Steve wanted to take it back. Tony Stark was probably far too busy to bother with a booty call from a random firefighter he'd slept with once. If he even remembered Steve at all. At worst, he was going to be pissed that Steve had used his personal information without asking.

_ >> Yes.  _

The reply came back almost immediately, and Steve's heart sunk, even though he wasn't surprised. He pushed up off his couch and tucked his phone in his back pocket, resigning himself to a night alone with his hand and the internet, when his pocket buzzed again. 

_ >> But that can change. Why? _

Steve stood halfway in the kitchen, staring at his phone. Huh.

_ << i had a really good time the other day, wondering if you wanted to do that again _

Barely a minute passed before his phone lit up with another text. 

_ >> Sure. Come over at 9. _

Steve tried to force himself not to think about it for the next two hours, but his body kept remembering how Tony had felt under his hands, clenching around his cock, and blood would throb south. 

At eight-thirty, Steve pulled his jacket on and slipped out of his apartment. He hailed a cab at the corner. At Tony's door, Steve smoothed his hair back, then knocked. 

Tony wrenched it open a moment later, smirk already painted on, and his eyes raked up from Steve's boots to his face. Then he stopped and his eyebrow quirked up. "Whoa."

"What?" Steve resisted the urge to press his hands to his face, find out what Tony was staring at.

"Beard." Tony grinned and stepped back to let Steve in. "That's new."

"Oh." Steve shook his head with a smile. He stepped in, but Tony stopped moving back to make space for him, so when Steve shifted to let the door close behind him, he had no choice but to press up against Tony's chest. Tony's fingers went to his face and scratched gently through his beard. "Yeah," Steve said, "I let it grow out sometimes, when I've had a lot of shifts. I don't like shaving at the firehouse. It's no big deal…"

"Oh… it's a big fucking deal," Tony purred. He scraped his fingers back through Steve's beard again to settle in his hair and pull him close. "I love beard burn."

"Well, shit." Steve grabbed at Tony's hips and yanked him up against him, nearly knocking him off his feet but catching his weight with an arm around his waist. Tony all but climbed him, finding Steve's mouth with his own and drawing him into a rough kiss.

They tumbled towards Tony's bedroom, Steve fumbling with Tony's belt then stripping off his own shirt and dropping it on the floor in the hall. 

"What no striptease this time?" Tony asked against Steve's lips.

"I've got more urgent things to attend to," Steve assured him, driving Tony back to the bed. 

Tony sat on the edge and shuffled out of his pants, heated eyes fixed on Steve's chest then dropping down to his crotch when Steve kicked his own pants the rest of the way off. Steve fell to his knees by the bed and pressed up against Tony's legs, petting up his thighs with flat palms. He followed his hands with nipping kisses, tasting Tony's skin. When he reached Tony's lap, Tony's hands went to the sheets and grabbed two fistfuls. Steve stroked his fingers down Tony's cock then followed his hand with his mouth. 

"Oh,  _ shit."  _

Steve swallowed Tony down to the base and sucked hard as he rolled back up again, pulling an incredible moan from Tony's throat. Tony's legs hooked over his shoulders and locked him close, fingers carding through his hair. Steve licked his way back up Tony's cock then bobbed down again, swallowing. Both his hands ran down Tony's thighs and around the curve of his ass. 

Tony's legs tightened around Steve's ears and he let his thumb slide in to tease Tony's rim. The movement of his head as he sucked Tony down was rubbing his beard roughly along the inside of Tony's thighs which pushed more and more desperate moans from Tony's throat.

"Fuck, Steve.  _ Nuuugh." _

Steve slipped off Tony's cock and pressed his lips to the crease of Tony's hip, breathing him in. He kissed the now pink patch of beard burn on his thigh and Tony's toes curled in. Steve dropped to his knees next to the bed and kissed and nipped his way down to Tony's balls, his thumb rubbing a steady pattern around the edge of Tony's rim. He wanted to taste every inch of him, work him open with his tongue. It was thrilling having someone like Tony Stark falling apart at Steve's touch. Steve breathed hotly against Tony's skin and kissed his way behind his balls to where his thumb was still gently working Tony open.

He hesitated, not knowing if Tony wanted his mouth there, but Tony squirmed, one hand leaving the sheets to wind through Steve's hair in a silent plea. 

"Can I?" Steve asked.

"Fuck, yes. Please. Either eat me out or fuck me now but if you hover for much longer I'm going to lose my goddamn mind."

Steve chuckled and dove back in. He stretched Tony's rim with his thumb then followed the touch with his tongue. Tony moaned and his hips rolled towards Steve, encouraging him on. Steve dove in without reserve, and when Tony's legs clapped tightly around his ears, he let his beard drag roughly up the insides of Tony's thighs until they had to be tingling. Tony used two handfuls of Steve's hair to guide him exactly where he wanted him, and Steve easily obliged. While he'd learned pretty quickly how incredibly sexy it was to push and pull and bend Tony the way he wanted, being driven forward by Tony's desperate scrambling fingers was shooting straight to his cock in a way that was hard to ignore.

When Tony was slick and open, Steve bit his way back up his chest and sucked his nipple between his teeth. 

"Please fuck me," Tony growled.

Steve's cock twitched with interest and he fumbled one-handed for the drawer he'd seen Tony grab the condoms from last time. He found the box and the lube and applied both. He dropped to his hands, folded over Tony and buried his face in his neck as he eased his cock into his hole. He slid in easily and the two of them groaned in unison as he bottomed out. 

"God, Tony. You feel so good."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, gorgeous." Tony rolled his hips up towards him.

Steve laughed. "I think it already did." He rocked back and pressed deep again, apparently knocking any further quips out of Tony's throat. He braced his feet on the carpet and rocked back and forth, slow and deep, Tony's heels digging into his back.

He let the pleasure build slowly, not chasing it with any urgency, knowing they had all night. And since Tony had apparently cleared his schedule, he might as well make the most of it. 

Tony arched his hips up, but he clearly couldn't find quite the right angle, so Steve urged him further up on the bed. He bent over him to kiss him but Tony wrapped his arms around Steve's neck and rolled him onto his back, straddling him instead. He grinned down, one eyebrow quirked in challenge, but Steve just smiled back and spread his arms wide, welcoming whatever Tony had to give.

Tony let their cocks slide together a few times then reached back to guide Steve's length back to his hole. In Tony's slick heat again, Steve let his eyes fall closed with a soft sigh. Tony rode him, picking up the pace. Steve skated both hands down his chest, careful to avoid the scars around the arc reactor. Tony made beautiful long lines when he stretched up, back arching with pleasure as he worked Steve's cock with his body.

Tony's own cock was standing proud, full and needy, so Steve wrapped his still-slick fingers around it and let Tony's undulations roll it through his grip. Tony's hands landed on his thighs and he used the brace to fuck up into Steve's hand and back down onto his cock with even more enthusiasm.

Steve's pleasure started to build then suddenly jumped closer and closer to the edge and he stilled Tony with both hands on his hips. "Wait, wait. Ugh - fuck. Tony you feel so good." A rush of desperate need flushed through Steve and he grabbed Tony and flipped him back over, using his muscles to keep his cock buried deep in Tony's ass. He chased the heat and the pleasure for a moment then worked his arm under Tony's waist and sat up, hauling Tony into his lap.

Tony laughed and wrapped his arms around Steve's neck, letting his weight sink back into Steve's hold. "Fuck, Steve. Put those workouts to good use. Good lord."

"Don't mind if I do." Steve buried his face in Tony's neck and set to work sucking a series of bruises along his jaw. He used the arm around Tony's waist to rock him up and down, gravity pulling Tony onto Steve's cock until every stroke was as deep as he could go. He braced his other hand against the headboard and quickened the pace, chasing pleasure. 

"God, Steve, yes. Fuck me deep like that." Tony's fingernails dug into Steve's back, and he bounced up and down with Steve's movements. Tony's body rippled around Steve's cock. "Fuck, fuck - I'm going to come. Steve -  _ ah -"  _ Tony shuddered and ground down as his cock throbbed and shot all over his stomach and chest.

Steve slowed his thrusts and let Tony settle in his lap while he caught his breath. "Wow."

"Okay - shit - wow. I'm too fucked out for more of that, but let me take care of you." Tony shuffled backwards off Steve's lap and settled between his legs. He slid the condom off, stroked once down Steve's length, then followed it with his mouth. He sucked relentlessly, cheeks hollowed, and Steve had been so close already that it only took a few bobs of Tony's head before he was coming. He flattened his hand against Tony's cheek and begged him to still with his touch as Tony's throat rippled around his cock. Steve gasped through the waves of his orgasm, savoring the wet heat of Tony's soft tongue as he pulsed in the condom.

Tony eased back with a gasp. "Holy shit," he breathed as he collapsed backwards on the bed. Steve tipped the other way, leaving their legs tangled in the middle as they both struggled to catch their breath. "You're the best stripper I've ever hired, by the way."

Steve snorted. "I should fucking think so. For one, I actually  _ could  _ save you from a burning building and two -"

"- and two, you put out instead of being a pole tease. Woof. My brain is leaking out my ears."

Steve stared at the ceiling, veins flooded with happy chemicals, while his heart stopped pounding. When he could stand again, he disentangled himself from Tony and rolled off the bed. Tony sat up too, groaning.

Steve watched Tony stretch out, muscles flexing under acres of smooth skin, while he tried to fumble his pants on without pulling his eyes away. Tony eventually slipped into another robe and went to the bathroom while Steve finished getting dressed. Tony reappeared just as Steve zipped up his sweater, and he tipped forward against Steve's chest, trusting he'd be caught. "Thanks for the romp, fire-boy."

Steve tipped down and kissed him. "Any time, Iron Man. Hope it was worth changing your plans for."

Tony grinned like a smug cat. "Definitely. My car's at the curb for you, by the way. No booty call of mine takes a cab."

"Thanks."

Tony followed Steve to the front door and leaned indulgently against the frame while Steve waited for the elevator. He stepped inside and turned back to Tony as the doors closed. "Goodnight."

Tony winked.

**

"Hey baby," Tony whispered into the phone a couple weeks later. "You up?"

Steve laughed, and he couldn't keep the sleep from his voice just like Tony couldn't keep the loose slur of alcohol out of his. "Isn't that supposed to be a text message?"

"T'was easier to type--I mean to call, than to type."

Steve sat up in his bed, hoping the boys were deep in sleep by now as he ducked out of the dorm and into the hall. "Sounds like you're having a fun night."

"Had," Tony corrected, and then what distinctly sounded like a hiccup followed. "Wanting to continue to have, though, especially if having means having a bit of you."

"So this  _ is _ a booty call." Steve grinned, trying not to laugh at how drunkenly adorable Tony sounded. "Hence the--"

"Hey baby, you up?" Tony repeated. 

"So classy. I had heard these rumors all over town about what a classy, handsome man you were, and let me tell you--"

"If you're not up, I can get on my knees and get you there."

"Fuck," Steve hissed, leaning against the hallway wall and letting his head fall back against the wall. It had been a while since he had last seen Tony and he was itching to get his hands back on him again. The man had a way of getting under his skin and lighting a fire there. "I would love nothing more, but I'm at the firehouse tonight. I have an overnight shift."

"Oh." The line was quiet on Tony's end, like he was processing this newfound information. "So?"

Steve snorted. "So? I can't leave in case we get a call and we can't very well get together in a room with three other guys."

"Kinky," Tony cooed into the phone. "Not quite what I was thinking, though."

"Oh?" Steve was intrigued because a determined Tony, Steve had discovered, usually led to a very satisfied Steve. 

"These big, bad fire stations of yours, they usually have a garage, right?"

"We're not 'bad',” Steve grumbled. “But yes, we..." Steve trailed off, already imagining leading Tony through the dark garage, finding a corner behind the trucks and getting his hands on him where no one could see. Or maybe he'd lay him down between the trucks and run his hands all over Tony until he was writing against him, moaning for Steve to slide in nice and easy.

"I lose you there, big boy?"

Steve cleared his throat. "Just thinking it over,” he replied, the little resolve he’d had wavering in the face of Tony’s breathy laugh. 

"Come on," Tony whispered. "Rumor has it, the garage is where I'll find the fire pole."

He was already walking towards the door that would lead him downstairs. "You're not wrong. How far away are you?"

"Right around the corner, hotstuff."

"Guess I’ll be seeing you soon." 

Minutes later, Steve waited in the darkened garage by the back door, peeking through the window for Tony to appear. He opened the door as soon as he saw him, not wanting him to wake the rest of the firehouse by knocking. 

“Hey there, handsome.” Tony greeted Steve with a smile and a brief kiss that Tony immediately tried to turn filthy but couldn’t quite manage before Steve stepped back to give him room to come inside. 

“A glimpse behind the flaming hot curtain.” Tony’s eyes glowed as he walked towards the nearest fire engine. Even in the darkness it was easy to see Tony’s delight. It made Steve want to get his hands on him; it’d only been a couple minutes and he was already under Steve’s skin.

Tony stroked the hood then caught Steve’s gaze from over his shoulder, nodding his head towards the cabin. “Ever fuck in there?”

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “If you want to watch me bang my head and my backside at the same time.”

“That only seems half-fun,” Tony replied, sashaying through the garage, a buzz of energy and alcohol as he fluttered between the fire trucks. “What about here?” He grabbed onto the firepole in the center of the garage, strategically placed so a dozen men could use it to get to the trucks. 

Tony started using the extra room to swing around the pole with one hand, the other one outstretched long as he twirled around. He came to a stop in front of it, facing the pole, and dropped low to a squat, fabric stretching over the smooth muscle of his thighs. He looked back at Steve over his shoulder, and winked. “Well?”

Steve’s gaze snapped away from Tony’s curves and back up to his eyes. “Pardon?”

Tony laughed, sounding delighted to have distracted Steve, like he hadn’t been doing that since the moment they met. He stood up again, hooking a knee around the pole and swaying around it until he could face Steve. “I’d asked if you ever fucked here.”

“Up against a pole?” Steve crossed his arms over his chest, noticing the way his biceps pulled Tony’s attention, and chuckled. “Seems a bit uncomfortable.”

Tony shrugged. “Sounds like a challenge.”

“And you like challenges?” Steve asked. “Surprising, since we fell into bed together within five minutes of meeting.”

Tony clucked his tongue, eyes dancing, and it pulled the edge of Steve’s mouth into a smile. “I like some things challenging, and other things easy. You think you’re up for a challenge, hot stuff?” Tony gestured towards the pole and met Steve’s gaze dead on, challenging. 

The gaze hit straight between Steve’s legs and he held it as he took one step forward, then another. Tony stood with the pole between them, and Steve reached out to grip it above him. 

Disbelief flickered across his face when Steve cocked his hip to one side. “Gonna show me some moves?” Steve asked.

Tony licked his lips. “I think you can figure out the basics.” He stepped back, watching. Tony was teasing him, baiting him, and Steve found he wanted to rise to the occasion.

“You did mistake me for a stripper,” Steve reminded him, spinning around the pole with one outstretched hand. “This is quite the long game.”

“You did so well last time. I have faith.” Tony mimed throwing money at him, making it rain on the firehouse floor. 

“I still have no idea what I’m doing,” Steve said, continuing to twirl around the pole.

“You’re doing great. Feel free to take off some clothes, while you’re at it.” Tony winked.

Steve laughed, gaze nervously flicking to the door that led to the firehouse. He hoped that his crew would stay asleep, unless the blaring of the firehouse alarms rang out. Tony was small enough to fit in some supply closet. It was--Tony cleared his throat and brought Steve’s focus back to him. 

“Should I keep the noise down?” Tony asked, catching his gaze. 

Steve shook his head. “The nearest dormitory is out of earshot.”

“Oh? Is that another challenge? They seem to be piling up and--”

Steve reached for the hem of his shirt, the pole wedged along his spine. He pushed off against it with a roll of his hips, and Tony's dropped jaw cut off his words rather effectively. 

Steve guessed Tony hadn’t figured Steve would actually do it. The cool air hitting his bare skin, tightening his nipples. A speechless Tony emboldened Steve, made him spin again around the pole, this time swaying his hips, flexing his arms.

“Fuck,” Tony hissed between breaths. “You’re so hot.”

Steve stepped away from the pole, into Tony’s space, leaving barely inches between them. “You’re not so bad yourself. Was this what you had in mind when you booty called?”

Tony barked out an airy laugh. “You stripping on a pole? No, I can’t say even my brilliant imagination could piece this one together. At least, outside of fantasy.”

Steve slid his hands over Tony’s hips. “You fantasize about me?”

Tony raised an eyebrow, slotting their legs together, and Steve could feel his hard cock pressing against his thigh. “Like you don’t think about me?” Steve did, had, late at night when Tony wasn’t just a text message away. “Ever think of my hands pressed against the firetruck, cock hanging in the open air of this very garage, while you line up to drive into me raw?”

Steve’s hands tightened on Tony’s sides. “Fuck.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Tony rolled his hips against Steve again. There were a million reasons why Steve shouldn’t make Tony’s words a reality, but he was finding it impossible to think of a single one, especially with Tony’s smirk still tinted with challenge. 

And Steve was never one to back down from a challenge. He tightened his grip on Tony’s hips and spun him towards the nearest fire truck, pressing their mouths together rough and thorough. A moan broke through the kiss, Tony gasping for air and catching his gaze with wild eyes. “Oh, hell yes,” he rasped out, hands running up and down Steve’s chest before crashing their lips into another searing kiss. 

The cool metal of the fire truck slapped against Steve’s palms as he bracketed Tony’s face and leaned his weight in. Tony shuddered, arms wrapping around his neck and arching his back to press every inch of them he could possibly manage together . 

Heat coursed through Steve, rushing south and building with it a need that matched every one of the whimpers that broke from Tony’s throat. Steve pulled back from the kiss, but couldn’t go far, trailing his lips over Tony’s ear. “You wanted me to fuck you against the truck?”

Tony moaned, smashed their lips together, then answered Steve by turning around and pressing his hands against the stark red of the firetruck, hips cocking like something directly out of Steve’s fantasy. He froze, stunned and Tony smirked over his shoulder. “Were you saying something about fucking me?”

Steve felt a growl rumble in his throat and he stepped closer, hands running down Tony's back, wrapping around his waist to pull at his belt. “God, yes,” he rumbled into his ear. “Do you have any--”

Tony hitched his hips backwards, dragging his denim clad ass over Steve’s cock. “Back pocket.”

Steve wriggled his hand into Tony’s tight jeans and grabbed the condom and a packet of lube, then let his hand linger over the curve. “So prepared.”

“Not the only Boy Scout here.” Tony moaned when Steve squeezed his ass before pulling back his hand. 

“Take these pants off, then,” Steve dared as he swatted the plump of Tony’s backside.

Tony met his gaze over his shoulder. “I’m liking all these orders.”

Steve narrowed his gaze. “Well maybe you’ll start following them then.”

“Maybe,” Tony whispered, turning his head to face the firetruck and dropping it between his shoulders. He shifted, one hand coming off the wall to unbuckle his belt, pull at the button and zipper. With a tug, he began shoving them over his hips.

“Slower,” slipped from between Steve’s lips, barely a gasp but loud enough that Tony must’ve heard because he obeyed, leisurely sliding his dark denim inch by inch over his ass like he had all the time in the world. God, he wanted to sink into him, press him against the fire truck and rock into him over and over, until Tony couldn’t hold back, had to shoot his load right across the bright red. 

Without any warning, Tony rocked back on his heels, lowering his hands from the truck to pull his cheeks apart, letting Steve take a peek. Tony’s gaze was back, piercing Steve from over his shoulder again. “Slide that condom on, hotshot.”

Steve's focus fell back to Tony’s bare ass, to the hint of his hole as Tony gripped at his cheek. Here they were, right in the middle of the firehouse garage and Steve was unbuckling his belt and tugging out his cock. He stroked his hand up and down his length until he was fully hard. It would have been easy to keep going, eyes fixed on the sight in front of him, but the desire to feel Tony all around him propelled him to move. He made quick work of the condom and bit at the corner of the lube packet. This time he did growl, when the packet almost refused to open, making Tony chuckle as he waggled his hips again.

“Not helping,” Steve said as he bit even harder, piercing the corner and spilling the lube over his hand. 

“Looks like you have it under control.” 

Steve gripped Tony’s hip with his dry hand, using the other one to line up behind him. Slowly, Steve dragged the head of his cock over his rim, tracing around the edges until Tony gasped and moaned. Steve took a moment to take in the image before him, Tony’s jeans shucked down to his thighs, hands pressing into the fire truck so hard his knuckles were turning white. He was spread out before Steve, one of the most glorious sights he’d ever seen, dropped spontaneously in his garage by a half-tipsy Tony. 

He slid one slick finger in and then another into Tony, making quick work to stretch him open, until he gasped out, _ "Get on with it," _ whining and impatient. Tony cocked his hips just  _ so _ , and Steve’s head caught just inside the rim. They both groaned at the intrusion and, taking a shaky breath, Steve continued to push driving forward to feel the heat of Tony gripping him entirely.

Tony’s head rolled and fell between his arms while he moaned, thrusting back into Steve. Steve knew he wasn’t going to last long, the picture Tony made was more than enough to tilt Steve over the edge, especially matched with the feel of him pressing against his cock. Every thrust came with the sinful sounds Tony made, leaning his head back onto Steve’s shoulder and letting Steve bite at his neck. 

Sliding his hand around Tony’s waist, the angle shifted and dragged over a spot inside Tony that made him thrust up into Steve’s waiting hand. “Fuck, Steve.” Tony moaned. “Yeah, touch me. Feels so good.”

Steve nodded, unable to form words as Tony clenched around him. Steve pulled back just far enough to thrust into him hard, keeping in time with his hand stroking tight around Tony’s cock. He was so close, but he wanted to see Tony go off first, make him lose control between two fire engines in an almost-quiet little corner of the city. He twisted his hand, palm sliding over the head of Tony’s cock. Tony shuddered in Steve’s arms, thrusting wildly back into Steve until he spilled over the edge past Steve’s palm and all over the Iron Man red of the fire truck. Steve couldn’t take his eyes off it as pleasure built under his skin, making his body buzz with heat, building and building until his hips stuttered over his own orgasm. 

Steve let out a broken groan and collapsed for just a second into Tony. After a moment, he gathered his breath and rolled over, his back hitting the side of the truck. Tony took a step back, fixing up his pants as Steve pulled off the condom and tossed it into one of the garbage cans along the side of the garage. When he turned back, Tony was smirking at him, face flushed but barely any other hint that moments ago he was being fucked against a fire truck. 

“You look smug,” Steve commented.

“Oh, just thinking,” Tony began. “You’re probably going to have to give this truck a wash, the next time you polish your pole.”

Steve snorted, shaking his head and chuckling under his breath. “Hand me a rag, you deviant, there’s one inside the door of the truck." 

Tony did as Steve said, pushing half his body into the truck, to reach into the door. He tossed Steve back a rag, face still inside the truck. “You’re right, this thing would’ve been way too small. It’s quite a travesty, actually. Good thing you fucked me on the outside, instead of in.”

Steve’s gaze slid over Tony’s ass as it poked out of the fire truck, feeling another stirring of lust, despite having just had one of the best orgasms of his life. That seemed to be Tony’s affect on him ever since the moment he met him. “Yeah,” Steve agreed with a smile. “Good thing.”

**

The stair creaked loudly under Steve’s weight as he crept back up to the dorms, and he froze. It was well after three by now, but that didn’t necessarily mean everyone would still be asleep. Part of why he and Bucky and Sam had all bonded was how often they found themselves awake in the night. Steve wouldn't trade his job for anything, but sleeping at the firehouse was hard. Knowing you'd get woken up any minute didn't help you drift into REM and the hustling and bustling of the other guys stomping around, getting drinks, and chattering late into the night didn't help you stay there. Now here he was, climbing back upstairs after his own late night escapade, making too much noise on the stairwell.

He continued his hesitant climb upstairs, turned around the bend and saw the flicker of the TV in an otherwise empty common room. There were no other entryways to the hallway that lead to their dorms, and the two firefighters whose heads he recognized sticking up over the back of the couch were too observant to let him slip by. He'd just have to play it cool.

Steve went for casual, walking in the dark across the common room, mumbling a quick hello, and flicking on the light for the kitchen against the far wall. The boys' game continued in the background but only until Steve opened the cupboard for a glass and filled it with water. Then, the game paused and he heard the jostling of two large men slinking their way across the room.

"Hey, Steve."

"Hey, Buck." Steve sipped from his glass. He glanced down to make sure his clothes were all in order and prayed he didn’t have any visible hickies or kiss-bruised lips. 

"So Sam and I were talking."

"Uh huh?" Steve tried innocently. "Better than yelling."

Bucky paid Steve no mind, plowing on. "In all the time I've known you, you've only ever been busy on Thursdays for your volunteer class. But there was that night you missed League play -" while Bucky talked, Sam checked things off on his fingers "- and there was the hickey you said you got from your razor, which, I'm just saying, I need me a razor that affectionate. Then you cancelled poker on us. And then the texting while blushing. And then - just now - you were talking on the phone - which, all your friends are here - and then you disappeared for half an hour."

"Just tell us who it is," Sam added bluntly. "We know you're dating someone. Spill."

Steve sighed. "I'm not dating anyone. And I didn't disappear. I was just… downstairs."  _ Tucking in the trucks,  _ he finished in his head and scowled at his own inability to come up with a decent cover story. 

The way Bucky's face fell made Steve's chest feel too tight. He didn't want to lie to them, and Buck clearly thought he was.

"I am… sleeping with someone though," he confessed with a sigh.

"You're what?"

Sam frowned. "You've been sleeping with someone for, like, what - two months now? And it's still not dating?"

Steve shook his head. "It's not heading towards dating. It's just fun. He stopped by tonight to… give me back something I left at his place… my… socks." Steve cleared his throat.

Sam curled his lip. "Gross, dude."

"Wait, back up. How do you, Steven Grant Boring As Fuck Rogers, meet someone we don't know about? All you do is this and your volunteering on Thursdays." Then Bucky snapped his fingers, like everything made sense now. “You met someone at your martial arts class. A parent. Oh, Stevie! Get it.” He punched Steve in the arm.

"No!" Steve batted him away. "No. That would be… I dunno, weird. No. It's not someone from the community centre."

"So if it's not Thursdays, what is it?" Bucky and Sam shared a look. 

"Someone he met on the job?" Sam offered, and Steve tried not to twitch and give it away. He'd never had a very good poker face. 

"Who the fuck would he meet? Unless it was at that inspection course."

"That was too long ago."

"Maybe they hooked up after."

Sam's eyes narrowed, and Steve cursed his impeccable memory, seeing the pieces click together in his mind. "Someone you met  _ on  _ an inspection. In fact… you were doing inspections the day you missed League with us."

Steve gritted his teeth. "How do you even remember that?"

"I remember cause I took the call from the PA who asked for it. And I remember who it was. The name kinda stuck out. And, you know, it's weird that you never told us what it was like getting to see  _ Tony Fucking Stark's penthouse." _ Sam snorted. “Maybe ‘cause all you saw was the ceiling. Did the 1%-er keep you going over knobs and circuits for a little extra time? Or maybe Iron Man wanted to show you his 'armour.'”

"Seriously?" Bucky's jaw dropped.

“And you’re blushing.” Sam leaned over the kitchen counter and poked his finger into Steve’s cheek. “That’s as good as a confirmation.”

"Shit, man. Tony Stark? You're dating Iron Man?"

Steve groaned. "I told you, we're not  _ dating."  _

"Oh my god, so it is Tony Stark!"

"Holy shit."

Steve sighed. "Don't wake everyone up," he hissed. "Okay, yes… I've been sleeping with Tony for a few months now. But it's just fun. It's not dating. Don't get all excited. Come on, man, you know if it was serious I would have introduced you guys."

Something softened in Bucky's expression, and he nodded.

"It's not like that. It's just physical. I  _ swear.  _ We just… booty call each other once in a while. It's… nice."

"Well shit." Sam looked impressed. "What's he like?"

Steve grinned. "Hot as fuck. Got a mouth like a sailor  _ and  _ like a hoover."

Bucky snorted.

"He's funny. More down to earth than you might expect. We have a good time. He likes to try and embarrass me, though." Steve's mind shot downstairs to dancing on the pole and he turned to the tap, refilling his glass to cover the way his cheeks were overheating. "And he has a bit of a thing for firefighters. But mostly, it's really, really good sex. And it's simple and easy, and that's perfect."

Sam and Bucky shared another look. Bucky reached out and gave Steve's shoulder a squeeze. "Well, hey. As long as you're happy."

"I am."

"Alright then. Mystery solved." Sam yawned. "I'm going to bed."

"Me too." Steve drained his water glass and rinsed it out. He followed Sam and Bucky down the hall to the dorms and crawled into his bed. He lay on his back and stared at the ceiling, but all he could see was the tempting arch of Tony's back as he bent over, hands braced on the fender of the truck.

**

Steve straightened his lapels and pulled the hem of his suit jacket as he walked through the doors to the hotel ballroom. The glass windows and ceiling let afternoon light sparkle over the attendees. They'd arrived on time, but the room already seemed nearly filled, and Steve followed Bucky as he slid between two ballgowns to make his way to the bar. He let Bucky order drinks for them while Steve took in their surroundings. It was hard to ignore the potential fire threats--there were definitely more people in the venue than code allowed, and one of the three fire exits was completely blocked by the buffet table--but he tried to remember he wasn’t the one at the station right now. He was the one in the monkey suit smiling and chit chatting to drum up donations.

Steve was reaching for the drink Bucky held out for him when the crowd parted and Steve saw him. Like a spotlight magically lowered from the ceiling, all of Steve’s focus pinpointed on the man. Tony was laughing, head thrown back, long neck on display. Suddenly, Steve was transported back to the firehouse, licking and biting that sensitive skin just like he had so many times now. 

“Earth to Steve. Did you want the air to drink your ale?” Bucky chuckled to himself at his own cheesy joke as Steve took the drink from his hand and threw back a long sip, gaze still on Tony. 

“What are you--Oh!.” He could feel Bucky’s gaze shift to him from the corner of his eye. “If it isn’t not-Thursday. You know he’d be here?”

Steve shook his head. “Makes sense though, his foundation donates regularly to the Firefighters Association. We should go say hello,” Steve nodded towards Tony and a group of firefighters from the 23rd Division. 

Not waiting for Bucky’s reply, Steve slid between groups of well dressed guests, picking Tony's laugh out of the crowd when he was only halfway there. Warm and smooth, it tugged the corners of Steve’s mouth into a smile. They pulled up to the side of Tony’s group and the man didn’t see him at first, facing away towards the other firefighters. 

“I have it under good authority that fire hoses _ can _ be used that way.” One of the men blushed and the other’s brows furrowed in confusion. 

“Captain Rogers, welcome,” Furrowed Brows said. “I’m sure you don’t remember me but we met a few years ago at that conference in Miami. “I’m Evan Somersby.”

“Nice to meet you again.” Steve nodded vaguely, trying his best to recall the man's name or face, but he was promptly distracted by the full force of Tony’s attention and smirk turned on him. 

“If it isn’t Mr. Good Authority himself.” His hand was still on the blushing man’s shoulder, and Steve’s gaze may have narrowed on it, if Tony’s smirk widening with mischief had anything to do with it. 

Steve’s focus swung from Tony’s mouth to his eyes. “And what lies having you been telling under my good name?”

“Can’t have the other firehouses figuring out your hose tricks?” Tony asked.

Steve snorted, shaking his head. “Who let you in here, with humor more appropriate for a schoolhouse than a firehouse?”

“Well good thing we’re in neither.” Tony grinned, Steve smiled back. Next to him Bucky cleared his throat. 

“Oh! This is my second-in-command, Bucky Barnes.”

“Pleasure.” Tony tipped an imaginary hat. “I’m--”

“Tony Stark,” Bucky cut off, with a small polite smile. “I know.”

“Ah! So my reputation precedes me?” Tony looked towards Steve. “Guess I’m not the only one telling lies about good names.”

Steve laughed. "Pretty sure that was on TMZ, not me." He hadn’t told Bucky much. His best friend was the last person that wanted to hear the sordid details of his lovelife, especially when they might include desecrating his favorite fire engine. 

Tony’s gaze caught Steve's again as Bucky picked up the conversation with the firefighters from the 23rd. It was like he could see right where Steve’s mind had wandered, like their night in the firehouse was projecting in a thought bubble over his head rather than inside his mind. Tony’s tongue swiped along his bottom lip, a gesture so quick and routine to anyone else it looked like he was wetting dry lips, but all that Steve could think of was that tongue sliding down his chest.

His breath caught, his neck heating under his collar. He knew he should focus on the conversation. More than that, he should’ve focused on the fact that Tony had been quiet for far too long, which meant he was probably scheming. Steve wondered if he was just imagining the space between them closing. 

“Wanna get some air?” Tony whispered into his ear, the breath sparking tingles down his neck. 

“Sure.”

Steve followed, the crowd so dense in some places he had to slip close to Tony, press his front to Tony’s back. It was hard to ignore how well he fit, slotted against Steve. He led them away from the busy balconies full of smokers and over to the front entrance, which had mostly emptied out into an open foyer. Even with everyone gone and plenty of room to spread out, Tony stayed close. 

“Was hoping I’d run into you,” he said, hands wandering over Steve’s side.

“Yeah?” He wanted to get his hands on Tony, remind him why he was the only firefighter Tony had to flirt with. Except, they were in the middle--well the entryway--of a fundraising gala. Steve sighed.

“What is it, hotshot?” 

“Nothing, just...wishing we were somewhere a little more private.”

Tony’s hips slid flush against Steve’s, and he could feel Tony’s agreement.  _ To hell with it. _ Steve scanned the foyer and saw a door on the far end, he tugged Tony’s hand, the other man laughing as Steve pulled them into what appeared to be a storage closet. Steve pushed him against the closed door as soon as they were inside and felt his laugh under his lips as he kissed down Tony’s neck. “We’re just checking off all the boxes for clandestine settings aren’t we?”

Steve pulled back from Tony. “Is that your way of saying, ‘Yes, Steve, we should fuck in a supply closet?'”

Tony groaned. “I never expect curses to come from those pretty lips of yours.”

“Better kiss me then and shut me the fuck up.”

Tony did, all but lunging forward. Steve lowered his hands, sliding over Tony’s ass. Tony pushed back into it then wrapped a leg around Steve’s calf and rocked upward against Steve. Steve followed the hint and moved his hands lower, bracing Tony’s thighs so when the man jumped up he could wrap his legs around Steve. 

They both moaned into each other’s mouths when Tony’s cock pushed against Steve’s. Their position made it easy for Tony to create a steady rhythm as he gyrated their hips together. God, he wanted to be inside Tony so much, and he might have said that out loud because Tony rocked his head back with a breathy laugh and said, “By all means.”

It was nearly impossible to fuck Tony against the door, legs wrapped around his waist, as much as Steve wanted to. Instead he spun them until his back was on the door, making Tony gasp. Then, ever so carefully, he bent his knees and lowered, down, down until he sat on the floor, Tony sitting on top of him, straddling his lap.

“Well, that was smooth.” Tony lowered his weight right onto Steve’s cock, chuckling when it ripped a moan from his throat. “Nice and easy now for me to do this.” He managed to lift a handful of inches off of Steve, and with a wiggle, he worked his pants and boxer briefs down to his thighs, his hard cock bobbing in the air between them, making Steve’s mouth water. “From smooth to staring, in sixty seconds flat,” Tony teased, winking when Steve’s face flushed. He wanted Tony in so many ways it often led him to distraction. 

“Just lift up, so I can get my pants off,” Steve said, voice rough. 

“I’ll do you one better, Captain.” He undid Steve’s belt with a swift flick, undoing the button and zipper then leaning back and tugging until Steve’s cock bounced free. Tony licked his lips again, so similar to on the ballroom floor but this time Steve knew the intent was there. Especially when Tony followed it up with, “Oh yeah, can’t wait to get you back inside of me.” 

Steve reached a hand into his coat pocket and pulled out a condom and one of his lube packets. At Tony’s surprised smirk, he shrugged. “What?” Steve asked. “Been carrying them around since the firehouse. Just in case.”

Delighted, Tony grinned and grabbed the condom from his hand and pulled at its corner. “So you can take me whenever and wherever you get your hands on me?”

Steve laughed. “Perhaps. I--” he broke off and gasped through clenched teeth, holding still as Tony slid it on, one hand running lube over his wrapped cock and the other reaching back. From the way his eyes fluttered closed, Steve imagined those talented, eager fingers stretching himself open. 

It hit Steve in that moment where they were, the supply closet of a fundraising gala, completely unable to keep their hands off each other. Steve almost laughed but it broke off into a whine when Tony shifted, moving to hover over Steve.

“Ready?” Tony asked.

Steve nodded and then he held his breath as Tony lowered inch by inch. He gripped Steve’s cock, and all Steve could do was drop his head back against the door and take it, take him. Once he bottomed out, they both stilled, breathing heavy, until Steve leaned forward and caught his lips again. He tasted like scotch and Steve chased his tongue for more. The change in position made his cock shift deep inside Tony and he shuddered against Steve, his head falling onto his shoulder. 

Steve rocked up into Tony, dizzy from the heat of having Tony on top of him, his breath in his ear, his lips drawing nonsensical patterns against Steve’s skin; Steve wanted more. He turned his head until his lips hit Tony, biting and kissing and claiming his skin. The thought of everyone, just a wooden door between them, and how if anyone saw them right now--those firefighters from the 23rd--they’d know, everyone would, that Tony was his, at least in that moment. Steve bit hard on his bottom lip at the thought and Tony clenched tight around him, stilled, then spilled over the edge. Tony hissed, hand coming up to catch his come before it could hit Steve’s dress shirt, but Steve was too lost to care, the tightness of Tony unrelenting as he jerked his cock once, twice, then came hard, falling against Tony.

“Well, then.” Tony beamed at him after a moment passed. “Can’t say steller sex is usually on the _ table d'hôte _ for these sorts of things, but I am not complaining about the upgrade.”

“Everyone else gets the buffet.” Steve gasped as Tony rocked back on his heels, lifting off Steve’s cock. 

“Oh, I’m special, huh?” 

Steve pulled the condom off, looking for a place to toss it and spotted a rag behind Tony’s head. “Well, I’m certainly not on the buffet,” he replied. “Hand me that rag?”

Tony did, grabbing one for himself as well, and they both stood up and did their best to make themselves presentable. “I should get back out there,” Tony said. “Speech to give and all.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah, donated a whole new fleet of fire engines. With cabins that could fit your old one’s cabins inside. Hell a few can fit the old cabins and this closet.”

Steve stared at him, surprised. He knew Tony was generous, donated a large share of Stark Industries profits every year, but this seemed almost personal. Tony continued describing the new fire engines and in the dim overhead light, it was entirely too easy to see the line of hickies he’d left down Tony’s neck. A low thrum of possessive satisfaction simmered low in his gut, and something must’ve shifted on his face.

“What is it?” Tony asked.

“Oh nothing--” Steve reached out and ran his finger over the dark red bites, sheepishness warring with satisfaction. “I, maybe, got carried away.”

Tony blinked once then his face transformed with delight. “You can carry me away anytime, handsome.”

Not long after they slipped out of the closet, the mayor walked onto the stage and the music fell silent. She began speaking about the Boston force and the appreciation they had for all the backers. When it was time to honor a few individuals, Tony slipped from Steve’s side and made his way to the stage. Steve was still in awe that the man had donated an entire fleet of fire engines to the city, seemingly on a whim. A whim that may or may not have something to with them fucking. He let his gaze trail over Tony under the stage lights, his suit barely rumpled, hardly a hint of what they got up to earlier. But it was impossible to ignore the marks on his neck, Steve’s marks, for all the world to see. It was the only thing he could focus on for the rest of the gala.

**

Steve bounced off the door frame as he manhandled Tony into the penthouse, mouths glued together. When Tony had said, "Come home with me?" after the benefit, Steve's  _ yes _ had tumbled out in a heartbeat. Tony smacked the wall near the light switch but couldn't find it fast enough, so Steve grabbed him around the waist and stumbled forward until he found the couch in the dark. They hit the arm and tumbled down in a mess of elbows and knees. 

Steve, unfortunately, took one of those knees to the balls, and he cried out then curled up in the fetal position, pain radiating down his thighs.

"Oh god, Steve, fuck I'm so sorry." Tony was laughing but hugging him at the same time.

Steve groaned but he was laughing now too, his face buried in Tony's chest. "Ow."

"I'm sorry." Tony kissed his forehead, his fingers combing up through Steve's hair while he recovered.

When Steve finally uncurled, the tension of before was gone and he just stretched out on the couch half covering Tony and half crammed in the cushions next to him.

"You okay?" Tony turned so their noses were touching.

Steve groaned. "I'll recover after a lot of therapy."

Tony laughed again, and that set Steve off once more. His skin felt warm and everything was easy and pleasant and he wondered if the wine was having a bit more of an effect than he'd thought. "Hey, here's a thing," Tony said. "Wanna eat freezer cake in bed?"

"What the fuck is freezer cake?"

"That shitty grocery store cake that you find in the freezer section. It's made of, like, styrofoam and crack."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Tony wriggled free and tipped his feet down onto the floor. He smacked Steve soundly on his ass. "Go get your naked ass in bed. We'll eat cake til the swelling goes down."

Steve shook his head, still laughing, but made his way to Tony's room, leaving a trail of clothes down the hallway just to piss him off. A few minutes later, Tony appeared with a plastic tray and two forks. Tony set the container on Steve's lap and stripped off himself then climbed over him to sprawl out, naked and unashamed. Steve let his eyes wander, figuring it was on display for a reason and he might as well take advantage.

When Tony raised an eyebrow and stretched out even more, Steve followed his gaze with his hand, gripping the jut of Tony's hip. His fingers fit there perfectly and they twitched against his skin, eager to tug and hold and guide. But Tony popped the top off the cake and dug a fork haphazardly in it. 

Steve copied his motion then frowned around the mouthful. "This tastes like weird, chocolate Cool Whip."

Tony nodded. "Good, right?"

"I can't believe you're a billionaire and you like this stuff." But Tony watched in smug amusement when Steve dipped his fork in again for another bite. "Shut up."

Tony laughed and flicked the TV on. It was some action movie Steve didn't recognize. He snuggled deeper down in the pillows, eyes getting heavier.

A while later, he vaguely registered Tony lifting the empty cake tray away and sliding the fork from his hand.

When Steve next woke, the room was dark and there was a heavy blanket over him. There was a soft shuffling and he realized Tony wasn't in bed anymore. "Tony?"

"Shit, sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up." 

"What time is it?"

"It is three thirty-six, sir," JARVIS answered.

"What's wrong?" Steve yawned. "You okay?" He realized in a fuzzy sort of way that they hadn't ever gotten around to having sex.

"JARVIS is shining the bat signal. I have to go for a bit. You can go back to sleep if you want. I'll text you later today." Tony finished slithering into a skin-tight, black undersuit and disappeared out of the bedroom.

Steve watched him go then sat up fully and rubbed his hands over his face. "Is everything okay, JARVIS?"

The AI answered by turning on the TV with footage of Iron Man flying across the sky.

"Shit." Steve watched, heart in his throat as Tony made his way towards some unknown danger. He was too amped up to go back to sleep, and he was suddenly struck by the awkwardness of his situation. He didn't know how long Tony was going to be away, but he'd also said "I'll text you later today" as if he expected Steve not to be there when he got back. He'd also said Steve could go back to sleep, but he knew Steve was inclined to get up around five anyway. So he supposed he should just… leave.

Steve shuffled out of bed, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. They hadn't even had sex last night, they'd just eaten cake and fallen asleep. That was such a relationship-y thing to do. But they weren't in a relationship.

They'd never actually talked about that in the three months they'd been having sex, but it honestly had never occurred to Steve to bring it up. Even when Sam and Bucky were giving him shit about it, he'd had no trouble thinking of it as nothing more than regular rolls in the hay. 

He and Tony were friend _ ly,  _ sure, but they weren't exactly friends. Pretty much all of their communication revolved around sex. Except, maybe, last night, and that was only made possible by the outlet of their earlier dalliance in the supply closet and copious amounts of wine. It wasn't like Tony would ever  _ invite  _ Steve over to eat freezer cake and watch movies. And fall asleep together.

Actually, it wasn't like Tony would invite Steve over for  _ anything.  _ Steve was almost always the one texting, calling. And sure, Tony was usually free, and Steve had to assume at least some of that time he was rearranging his schedule to make space for Steve. But they'd never even come close to an exclusivity talk, or a real date, for that matter, and there was no way Tony wasn't sleeping with other people, right? If he wanted that, he'd text Steve, call him when he was sober, want to talk, maybe. Want to meet up for things like the benefit gala. He'd say something.

And that something wouldn't be "I'll text you later today," when it could be "I'll be back soon, order breakfast."

Okay, maybe that was a bit unfair. Steve took his phone out and scrolled back through their history. If Tony really did text him later that day, it'd be the third time in six weeks he'd started a conversation and the first time sober. Assuming, of course, that he wasn't planning to be drunk later.

It wasn't like there was anything wrong with that, but for the first time, it was making Steve feel uneasy. He'd never felt like he was bothering Tony before, but perhaps it was because he knew the sex was good for both of them, that Tony would say no if it wasn't worth it. But all of a sudden there was something else there, some nugget of uncertainty or guilt or... something. He slipped out of bed and almost stepped on the empty cake container, two forks tucked inside. 

It was the cake that had done it, wasn't it? But why?

He picked up the empty container and walked it into the kitchen, leaving the forks in the sink before going back to the bedroom, collecting his trail of clothes along the way. He felt distinctly more in control of things with his underwear on, but something still wasn't sitting right.

Nothing had changed, had it? He thought about Tony stretched out long on the bed, smirking at Steve with a smear of chocolate frosting at the corner of his lips. He wanted to lick it off then kiss him silly - that feeling hadn't changed since day one. But -

There was the hint of something else there too. Of wanting to lick it off then gather Tony in his arms and fall asleep again. And maybe it was just that he was tired - three hours wasn't quite enough, even for him - and maybe it was that he was stressed about Iron Man being in danger, but somehow that feeling was new and he didn't know what to do with it.

Whatever it was, Steve wasn't ready to feel that way, and certainly not about Tony. He and Tony had so little in common, so little reason to be anything more than a good night's fun - not that he was thinking about more -

He dropped his face into his hands and groaned. He was just tired. That was it. He should get out of Tony's space, go home, go to sleep - he didn't have to work tomorrow, or rather, later today, but he did have his karate class that night - and it would all make more sense at a reasonable hour.

Hopefully.

**

Even after a shower and breakfast back at home, Steve still felt uncertain. He kept fiddling with his phone, wondering if it would ring or chime. He checked the news several times until he saw that Iron Man was confirmed safe back home, but Tony still didn't write. 

He spent the rest of the day feeling off-kilter, without really able to put his finger on why. He didn't eat much at lunch and at four-thirty, he needed to pack up and leave. He changed into sweats and a t-shirt and packed his backpack.

He parked at the community centre and let himself into the main gym. He'd only managed to pull three mats off the walls before he stopped to check his phone again. Still nothing.

Why was he so unable to let Tony go today? Was it because without orgasms, their encounter last night felt unfinished? Steve tried to convince him of that, but it wasn't it. Instead, he kept flashing back to Tony digging into the cake, smiling. Something fluttered in Steve's chest.

Shit. 

That was a little hint of something, wasn't it? A new kind of fondness, affection, a desire to see that side of Tony more often. It dug in unpleasantly in a way that took Steve entirely by surprise and knocked him off his balance.

Even as the kids filed in, he couldn't keep his focus on running their warmups. He hadn't been looking for feelings with Tony, just sex - amazing sex, sure - but something else was blooming in his chest. 

Was it too late to revert Tony to friend status? Could they have those cake moments as buddies and take sex out of the equation? It didn't really seem likely, not now that Steve knew what it felt like to be deep inside him. 

But also, were Steve's slowly developing feelings even real? He'd never known a force of nature quite like Tony and maybe the orgasms were just going to his head. Tony, for his part, had never shown interest in Steve beyond the sex. In fact, Steve was the one who initiated most of the sex, too. And Tony's list of bedfellows was famously long. For every night Tony had made time in his schedule for Steve, he'd probably had five nights with models and celebrities and royals. 

Steve's group of kids finished their jumping jacks and he forced himself back into the room. He started walking them through their activities. He lined them up into rows and moved them through their strike combinations--jab, uppercut, hook, punch. The steady routine of it pulling him into the lesson.

"Okay, ten minute break!" Steve called, and the kids immediately went wild, giggling and making for their backpacks where their parents had left them snacks.

Steve dug his own water bottle out and took a sip while he checked his phone notifications, wondering if he should ask Bucky for help with his unexpected new Tony-feelings. But Tony had finally followed through on his promise to text, and Steve swiped it open.

And spat water all over his backpack.

"Holy shit, Tony." He closed the app, cheeks heating, and looked around, but thankfully, all the kids were on the other side of the room. Turning his back to the wall, Steve took another peek. It was a shot of Tony's dick, taken down his bare chest. The fingers of one hand curled around the base loosely, framing his mouth-watering cock, which was rock hard.

He hadn't sent any text with the message. 

Steve shoved his phone back in his bag without replying. 

And that summed it up, didn't it? Tony was a booty call, a dick pic, phone sex, and Steve had never intended or expected him to be anything else. And here was clear proof that Tony wasn't expecting anything, either. It made sense, it wasn't like Steve could call him up and tell him about his martial arts class, his kids. It wasn't like he knew what Tony did in his spare time, besides what was posted in the papers.

Steve had to slow down with this guy, or his heart was in real trouble. And right now, he had to focus on his class. He ignored his phone and turned back to his kids, putting his all into entertaining and educating them for the rest of the night.

Back at home, he forced himself to keep his phone off and spend some time on his own. By the time he woke up the next morning, he'd made a decision. He needed some space from Tony, to think about what he wanted, to see if absence made the heart grow fonder or just the dick. 

When Steve didn't reply to the picture, Tony didn't say anything either. The next morning, not wanting to be hurtful, Steve shot off a text.

_ Sorry, I'm going to be really busy this week. Text you later? _

Tony wrote back about an hour later.  _ Sure. Good luck with your busy. _

Steve didn't talk to him again for over a week.

**

The blaring alarm woke Steve, and before he even opened his eyes he was jumping out of bed, rushing down the hallway of the firehouse. Bucky was off today, so he was flanked by Sam and Natasha, the rest of their crew spilling from their dormitories into the hallway. They all rushed to the fire pole. Wrapping his hands and legs around it, Steve slid down into the garage and put on his uniform on autopilot, keeping an eye on his team out of the corner of his eye.

“Can someone turn off the alarm?” Sam groggily said over his shoulder. A moment passed and then blissful silence as they packed into the brand new Stark issued fire engine. Steve tried not to think about it, think about him, even though he’d had Tony naked right here in this garage less than a month ago. He had a job to do, and a hookup to forget about.

The blazing inferno engulfed the ten story apartment building. Outside there were scores of residents clutching to their families and pets and whatever they could gather as they raced from their homes. The team started jumping out of the fire truck before it even made a complete stop. People were screaming, some running towards the truck. 

“Help!” a young boy shouted. “My mother! She’s still in there!”

Steve gathered his crew and started doling out orders. Three teams of two manned the water hoses while Steve, Sam and Natasha ran rescue. They pulled up the ladders, and Steve began to climb towards the third story window where a man held a toddler in his arms, screaming for help. 

Through every call, Steve’s mind slowed and all that existed was the single minded purpose of getting through to the other end. When the man and his child were safely on the ground, Steve pulled up to the next window, and then the next. 

It was taking too long; the heat of the blaze had caught the foundation, and the building under Steve’s ladder seemed suddenly unstable. They were running out of time. 

Steve didn’t see it at first, through the orange flames and waves of heat--a blink of red shooting across the sky. It was a blur in his periphery, his focus solely on the child being placed in his arms. Fear made her cling to Steve tightly, but she was able to climb down the ladder herself. 

Turning back to the building, he heard a loud hum and then the red from earlier stopped right beside him. Iron Man. He’d never seen him in action up close before, and it was hard to discern Tony under the armor. Before Steve had decided if he wanted to say something a creak a couple floors above them drew Iron Man away, up the side of the building where he did his best to hold a rafter in place. 

“Help!” Steve heard a woman shout from inside the apartment, and thoughts of Tony were pushed from his mind. Steve dove through the window, the air carrying the faint, automated voice of Iron Man shouting his name.

The woman huddled in the far end of the room, a line of fire forming a wall between them. It was thin, though, and Steve knew if he ran through it, his suit would protect him. As he approached the woman, she stood, the flames lighting up the fear in her eyes. 

“We have to go!” Steve shouted. The ladder waited in the window but the fire continued to grow, blocking their exit through the window. Steve scanned the apartment; the front door was open.

“There’s a stairwell that way!”

“It looks clear.” Steve ushered her through the apartment and into the hallway. Fire consumed one side, the other empty.

“The stairwell’s that way!” the woman cried, pointing towards the worst of the fire. Steve looked back into her apartment, but the fire had spread, cutting them off. 

“Come on.” Steve led them away from the fire, running into an open apartment, shutting the door on the hallway fire, and rushing towards the window. Far below, the hoses did their best to quench the fire. He clicked on the walkie-talkie on his shoulder. “Sam, can you hear me? Over.” 

It blared to life immediately. “Captain, where are you? Over.”

“Three apartments down from where the ladder’s hooked up. Need you to move it--” A crash behind him and he knew they didn’t have long. “Hurry! Over.”

A moment passed and the fire truck still hadn’t moved. Steve cursed under his breath and shouted into the walkie-talkie again. “Sam!” Fire started to light up around the closed apartment door. 

“We’re coming, Cap,” Sam replied. “Natasha is unlocking the ladder now and--looks like you have company incoming.”

Before Sam even finished speaking, Iron Man was in the window frame. 

“Take her!” Steve shouted at Tony, who kept his gaze on Steve for a beat before nodding. The woman climbed into Iron Man’s arms. 

“I’ll come back for you,” Iron Man said. 

“No, help the others, the ladder will be here soon.” 

Iron Man hesitated, like he wanted to argue but then he took to the air without a word. Steve’s shoulder walkie-talkie crackled. 

“Ladder’s on the move.”

The familiar silver rungs hit the window right as the apartment complex rumbled and the roof collapsed around him. A beam swung down and knocked Steve off his feet. Through the walkie-talkie, Sam shouted, but Steve could barely hear him. The beam was, thankfully, not on fire, but it had hit his head on its way to the ground. There was a horrible pain ripping through his forehead and his eyes had gone hazy, but he had to push through it. The fire danced under the door; his time was limited. He had to move. 

Steve groaned as he stumbled towards the window, instinct propelling him outside. He cursed as his feet hit the ladder, his head pounding with every footstep, as he did his best not to fall multiple stories and suffer a far worse fate than a bumped head. 

He was halfway down the ladder when Iron Man flew by his side, hovering. “Let me help.”

Steve shook his head. “I got it, help my crew.” He gestured towards the firefighters that were starting to get an edge on the fire. 

“Steve--!”

“Tony! I got this.”

Steve heard him swear through the Iron Man voice modulator as he flew off. It wasn’t much longer until he was back on the ground. He started to run right towards his crew, to try and help any way he could, but a medic stood in his path. 

“I’m fine,” Steve growled.

“Sir, I can't let you go without a check up. One of your crew said a room collapsed on top of you.” 

"That's an exaggeration," Steve mumbled but the medic just began her preliminary physical standing right there, flashing a light in his eyes. 

"You might have a concussion. You need to sit down.”

“What I need is to--”

His walkie-talkie crackled to life. “Captain, we got this,” Sam snapped out. “Now listen to the medic and get yourself patched up.”

“I’m fine,” Steve told the open air. The medic left him on the back of an ambulance, and time seemed to blur at the edges, his head aching to the point of distraction, and he was starting to get irritated with the flashing lights from the firetruck. The orange flames began to simmer, morph into red and then there was Iron Man standing right in front of him. "You okay?" Iron Man’s words hardly made sense, Steve's ear getting caught on the voice modulator. 

But before he could answer, the medic came back and bundled him into the ambulance. "I'm taking you to the hospital."

Steve's protests fell on deaf ears and eventually he succumbed. It took two hours to be processed and seen by a doctor who determined that he didn't have a concussion bad enough to need treatment, but he was still advised to take it easy for a few days and come back for a recheck.

Steve thanked the doctor, pulled on his jacket, and slipped out of the exam room, but when he looked up, a familiar silhouette was standing at the end of the hallway. 

Tony looked up as Steve approached. “I told them they could release you into my care.” There was an edge to Tony's voice.

“And I told them they could release me into  _ my _ care,” he replied. 

Tony frowned and shoved his phone into his pocket. “You have a concussion.” 

There was something unbearably frustrating about Tony’s soft, brown eyes. “And you have plenty of other things to do, I'm sure,” Steve slurred.

Tony’s brow furrowed. “What? Wow, you really are concussed. Come on.” He took a step closer. “Let me get you home.”

“I keep telling everyone, I’m fine.” 

“Sure you are, and you can prove it to me, in your apartment.”

Neither said much on the cab ride to Steve's place. Steve's head throbbed to a distracting and painful beat and mostly he just wanted to be left alone. But Tony followed him up the stairs to his building and didn't seem inclined to say goodnight and leave when Steve rattled his keys by the door.

So Steve let Tony in, grimacing at the dishes in the sink and the basket of laundry waiting to be folded next to the couch. Somehow, Tony's presence was making him feel pissy, and he stomped around, frustrated every time he tried to move too quickly and a sudden dizziness reminded him of his bumped head. "You don't have to stay," he grumbled out.

"Would you just sit  _ down?"  _ Tony snapped. "Look, I get that you aren't interested in fucking me anymore, but it's not like that's on the table when you have a concussion, anyway. I just need to make sure you're not going to bleed out inside your own head and die, and then I can leave you be."

Cold guilt flushed through Steve's veins and he sat down hard. "Tony…"

"No, it's okay, I get it. That came out too harshly. I'm sorry. It is totally within your right to break up with me, Steve." Tony's voice went soft. "But I can't turn off caring about you. So, like, if there's someone I can call? Someone who wasn't actually at the fire and isn't currently dealing with their own smoke inhalation, by the way. As far as I can tell, all your friends work there too."

"I didn't break up with you. How could I even do that? We weren't dating."

Tony shuffled where he stood. "Yeah, I mean, I know. I just sort of thought we were headed there... But we don't have to do this now, not while you're sporting a goose egg the size of… well. An ostrich egg." Tony blinked. "Not my best."

"Are you sure you're not the concussed one?"

Tony rolled his eyes then sunk down on the couch with a careful foot of space between him and Steve. "Look, I'm not great with the talking part of having emotions, I get that. So I should have said something, instead of just assuming, but I was pretty surprised when you called things off."

"I wasn't calling things off. I just… I had a busy week…"

Tony shot Steve a look, and he winced.

"Yeah, okay. I was calling things off. But I honestly only meant to take a bit of a break from you so I could sort out my own feelings. I didn't think it would upset you."

"It's okay. Just took me off guard. Cause, like, after the Firefighter's Benefit, it sort of seemed like things were changing."

Steve nodded. "Yeah, exactly. I started feeling differently about you. I thought it was best I take a break from sleeping with you so I could figure them out."

"And?"

Steve shrugged. "I don't know," he mumbled at his own hands. "I really missed you. I - shit, I think I broke rule one. I've caught feelings for you."

Tony was quiet for a long time and Steve eventually couldn't take it anymore and looked up. Tony's brow was furrowed. "Who said that was rule one?"

"What?"

"Who said not catching feelings was rule one?"

"I - I don't know, it just  _ is.  _ This was just sex. It ruins it if one of us wants more and the other doesn't."

"Why would that ruin it?"

Steve's head was pounding. Did he really have a concussion or was this just the most frustrating conversation he'd ever had? "You're sleeping with other people. If this were a real relationship, I wouldn't want to share."

"If this were a real relationship, I'd stop sleeping with other people and I'd expect you to, too."

"But it's not!"

"Well, it  _ could be!"  _

Steve stopped. "What?"

"I thought that was where we were headed," Tony repeated. "Eventually. I don't get why you're upset about catching feelings - isn't that the point? You sleep around and have fun and meet people, and hopefully one of them is the right people and it turns into something serious. I like you. We have fun together. I was on my way to catching feelings too…" Tony trailed off, something pinching in his face and his voice. "I really thought that was the point."

"Oh." Steve took a deep breath in, let it out. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay. I mean, I should have said that, I guess. If you're feeling okay, I should go." Tony stood, shoving his phone and keys into his pockets. "Are you hungry? I can order you something before I leave. I feel like you should eat."

"No, Tony. Wait. I'm sorry I didn't talk to you all week. I'm sorry I didn't tell you why."

"It's okay. We just weren't on the same page."

Steve stood too. He reached out and caught Tony's arm. "I want to be on the same page."

Tony stilled then swallowed heavily. He rotated on his heel until they were face to face. "What page is that?" he whispered roughly.

"Catching feelings," Steve replied.

Tony just stared at him without saying anything.

"I'm just going to - I want us to be exclusive, if that's something you're interested in. I want to take you on a proper date. I want to try that out and see if it fits us." Steve breathed out a heavy sigh and let Tony's arm fall away. "I can't keep sleeping with you without it meaning something, so that's the page I'm on. I want it to mean something, if I have the choice."

Slowly, a smile bloomed on Tony's face. He stepped closer. "That's a nice page. I like that page."

"You do?"

"Sure do. Come on? Who wouldn't want a strong, gorgeous, sweet, kind, firefighter boyfriend?" He snuggled up against Steve's chest then pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "Let's catch feelings together."

Steve curled his arms around Tony's waist and held him close. "Okay. Let's do that."

**

"You should get up there on stage," Tony said with a grin, leaning against Steve's shoulder. His cheeks were pink and bright, and Steve didn't know if it was from the booze or the laughter.

"You've already seen the only show I'm ever going to give on a pole," Steve shot back.

"Oh gross!" Bucky appeared behind them with Sam. "That's a communal pole that we all touch, Steve. Come on."

Tony covered Steve's crotch with one hand. "You'd better not be touching."

"You'd better not be fucking in my firehouse."

Sam elbowed Bucky out of the way and slumped into one of the chairs. "You're crazy if you think they haven't fucked in the firehouse."

"Nasty."

Rhodey and Pepper appeared on Sam's other side and put a tray of drinks on the table. Rhodey handed one to Tony who flicked his feather boa over his shoulder and took a sip. "Why do people sexualize firefighters, anyway?" Rhodey said. "I know a bunch and thy're all idiots."

“All of them?” Natasha greeted with a coy smile, as she slid into a chair and put a plate of fries onto the table for them to share. 

"I don't think it has anything to do with their brains," Pepper mused, kicking her stocking clad feet up on the edge of Sam's chair. Her eyes stayed trained on the stage where two very buff and slightly damp men in suspenders, speedos, and safety helmets were grinding against a pole and waving a toy hose around. Along with their own, personal hoses. She reached blindly for some fries. 

"She's having too much fun," Tony pointed out. "Someone take her keys."

"Shut up." Bucky stood up and waved his drink at the group.

"I didn't even bring my keys," Pepper insisted. "Happy drove all of us here and now he's drunk too so we're going to need a lot of cabs."

They all turned as one to look over at where Happy was apparently failing to chat up the bartender.

"She has more tattoos and more green hair than I would have guessed for him, but you get it, my man." Sam saluted him with his beer.

"Shut up!" Bucky smacked his hand on the table. "I'm doing a thing."

Natasha snorted.

"Oh, sorry," Pepper slurred. "Do your thing." Her eyes drifted back to the dancers.

Bucky cleared his throat. "When I first met Tony, I hadn't met him at all, cause Steve was an asshole who didn't let any of us meet."

"Hey!" Steve whined. "Rude."

"Aren't you guys supposed to have separate bachelor parties?" Rhodey asked.

"Shut up! But then when I actually met him and he turned out not to be clandestine volunteer work on not-Thursdays, I sort of didn't hate him."

"You are too drunk to give a toast, man." Sam patted him on the arm.

"Shut up." Bucky shifted and his drink tilted worryingly to the left. "Anyway…. Now Tony is part of the family and we love him by obligation, just like we love Steve even though he's a big, dumb lug. So all in all, it's pretty kickass that you're getting married. Also dibs on dogfather when you start popping out kidlets."

"Godfather," Tony corrected.

"Yeah." Bucky visibly pondered that for a moment. "Unless you get dogs."

"Sit down." Sam tugged on his shirt, and Bucky slumped back into his chair.

"To Steve and Tony!" Rhodey called, clinking his drink against Bucky's.

"Fuck yeah!"

Tony turned to look at Steve, that bright mirth still warming his eyes. "I take it back. I don't want your family. I'll marry someone else."

Steve snorted. "Good luck finding someone else who will have you."

Tony leaned in until Steve could feel the movement of his lips against his. "I'm very rich and very beautiful. I think I'll do alright."

Steve kissed him. "Very pain in the ass too."

"Think you're more of a pain in  _ my _ -"

"Boys! Shots!" Rhodey waved down a waiter.

Steve took the drink he was given and knocked it back on the count of three. The heat rushed through him and he hooked an arm around Tony's shoulders and pulled him into his lap. The loud music and the erotic dancing and the thrill of knowing he was going to be married to this wonderful man in just one week made it feel okay to snuggle up tight in one chair and nuzzle into Tony's neck. 

There were more drinks and more rather sloppy attempts at toasts. Bucky and Sam went up to the stage and threw singles for a while, making Steve laugh, but as the night wore on, Steve just wanted more and more of Tony and nothing else. The booze made him bold and his hands wandered south.

"Well, hello, there," Tony purred. 

Steve glanced around and no one was paying them any attention at the moment. "Miss you."

"I'm right here." Tony kissed him firmly.

"I know, but so's everyone else. I miss  _ you."  _

Tony's soft smile grew into a cheeky grin. "Trust me?"

Steve sighed. "God help me, yes, I do."

"Come on." Tony grabbed Steve's hand and slipped out of his seat. He made his way through the club, past the bar, and towards a curtain that led to the private dance rooms.

"How do you know your way around here so well?"

"I think that's a ten year anniversary kinda question, babe." Tony pulled up in front of the security guard and flashed a handful of green. "My stripper friend and I have a private dance scheduled."

The guard raised an eyebrow but stepped back, pocketing Tony's handshake. "Room five."

Tony dragged Steve past him, and he shot the man an apologetic smile, but he just chuckled and shook his head, probably used to it. Locked in the room, Tony pushed Steve down on the bench seat and climbed up into his lap. "You're hotter than those dancers."

Steve's hands wandered up Tony's back. "You know... I've danced for you, but you've never danced for me."

"Is that so?" Tony rolled his hips on Steve's lap.

"It is. Two years and not a single dance."

"So tragic for you."

"I've been very good, you know."

Tony kissed across his forehead. "You have, my darling."

"And you always talk about my firefighter muscles, but I know you have some amazing Iron Man muscles. Why don't you show me, baby?"

Tony hummed then slid backwards off Steve's lap. "I guess you deserve a treat. After all, you are getting married in a week."

"I am. One last hurrah." Steve pouted dramatically. "Please?"

"Well, alright then." The beat from the music out in the club still pounded through the walls and Tony shook his hips along to it. He caught Steve’s eye before pulling up the hem of his shirt, only enough to show a stripe of skin before spinning around so his ass faced Steve. From over his shoulder, Tony sent Steve a wink before bringing his hands to his pants. Steve watched as more and more of him was revealed, lowering them down over his boxer briefs and letting them drop to the floor. 

Well formed calf muscles rolled into thighs Steve yearned to get a hold of and his gaze settled on the defined curve of his ass, when Tony spun and Steve’s eye landed on his bulging straining cock through the boxer briefs. 

“Enjoying your dance?” Steve asked. 

“Maybe.” Tony’s hips swung from one side to the other as he walked over to Steve’s bench, pulling his shirt off on the way. The dim blue of the arc reactor lit up the room. Tony hovered over Steve, arching his back so his chest was so close Steve would barely have to lean forward an inch to wrap his lips around Tony’s nipple. 

But Tony had other plans. He found the beat of the club's music and rolled his abdomen, making his abs dance under the faint blue light. 

“You’re good at that.” Steve’s mouth went dry and he licked his lips, wanting to run his hands over Tony’s chest but not knowing how far to take the game. Steve might not know the layout of the place as well as  _ some people,  _ but he knew enough to know that back here, the stripper decided whose hands went where. 

Tony’s fingers danced up Steve’s sides, still swaying to the music. He dragged his fingertips up Steve’s neck, over his jaw to tease at his lips. Steve’s mouth opened automatically, swiping his tongue out for the briefest taste before Tony spun again. 

This time he settled with his ass right over Steve’s hard cock, grinding back. Tony’s head fell to Steve’s shoulder, and he twisted his face around until his lips were against Steve’s ear. “Better grab onto my hips, hotshot.” 

Then Steve realized everything up to now was just a preview, because now his body moved like a snake, expertly designed to keep Steve on edge. His hips pressed close then shifted away, hands dragging up his own body, drawing out moans that broke off into whimpers. When Steve was able to pull his gaze from Tony's body and meet his eyes, they were dark pools of satisfaction, completely aware of his affect on Steve.

Tony stepped back, hands leaving his chest as he pointed his finger at Steve and swayed to the music. When Steve met Tony’s eyes again Tony lowered his own palm to where his cock strained through the boxer briefs and started to stroke himself through the fabric. Steve felt a rush of blood head south and had to palm his own twitching cock hard, to keep from throwing himself at Tony. Tony was a vision under the dim lights, deft hands making his cock leak and darken the light blue fabric. 

Steve’s mouth watered at the sight of it. “Tony,” he gasped, reaching for him but dropping his hand, wanting the show to continue as much as he wanted to touch this man. His future husband. It was a heady thought, that after all this time they were still together, stripping for one another.

His attention was pulled back to Tony’s fingers when they went the the elastic band of his boxer briefs. Tony ran them over the edge lightly, teasing, and Steve felt the growl pull from his throat as he clenched his fists against the desire to pull Tony back into his lap and just take him. 

Tony chuckled, and probably smirked but Steve didn’t know for sure because he couldn't pull his gaze from Tony’s hands. Then, with one final teasing stroke, Tony lowered the elastic until his cock bobbed free. They both moaned at the sight. Tony’s hand fell onto it and began to stroke, a second act to their show. “You’re gorgeous,” Steve whispered under his breath and Tony’s hand stuttered then gripped tight at the praise. 

“Still miss me?” 

Steve bit his lip, soaking in the sight of Tony, memorizing every detail--how his hip stuck out, showing off the long length of his thigh; the way his face flushed from dancing and arousal--to replicate in his sketchbook later. He ran his hands up and down his thighs and met Tony’s heated stare. “Maybe.”

“Well.” Tony smirked. “Can’t have that.” He stepped forward again, this time lowering to his knees. He crawled up to Steve's feet and slid his hands up his thighs to his zipper. “Maybe if I get a bit closer,” Tony added before pulling Steve’s pants off with one thorough tug down so that Steve’s cock sprung up against his stomach. Before he could catch a breath, Tony wrapped his hand around it and gave the head a quick swipe. 

Steve swore, hips jutting forward. “Yeah,” Steve whispered when Tony’s tongue moved again, this time down the length of his shaft. Steve brought his hand up to brace the back of Tony’s head, running lightly through the strands. Steve didn’t push or urge, but Tony still took the touch as a signal to quicken his pace, mouth turning sloppy with salvia and enthusiasm. Without warning, Tony pulled back and assessed his handiwork. Steve’s cock twitched helpfully under the attention. 

After a moment, his hand shot out towards the edge of Steve's seat, towards the end table. Steve took the hint and reached to open the drawer there, pulling out a bottle of lube but ignoring the condoms. After all their stripshows and hookups, he still appreciated being able to slide into Tony without any barrier between them. 

Tony plucked the lube out of Steve's hand and squeezed some onto his palm. “You may be all wet from a messy and thorough blowjob--you’re very welcome, by the way--but I think I may need some help.” Tony moved again, twirling on his feet until his ass was in Steve’s face, he had the brief instinct to bite the plump cheek before Tony hands came around, bringing lubed fingers to his hole. “Keep watching,” he whispered.

“Like I’d look away.” 

Tony preparing himself had to be the hottest thing that Room Five had ever seen. Talented fingers pushed and stretched, and Steve indulged, bringing his hand to his cock and spreading Tony’s saliva up and down at the sight. Want rushed through him and mixed with the remnants of alcohol making him bold enough to reach out and grip Tony’s hips, pull him just an inch closer. 

“Whoa now, no hands.” Tony smirked over his shoulder even though just seconds ago, he’d let Steve touch.

Steve hummed, playing along. “Sure you can’t make an exception? You’re so hot, I can’t help myself.”

“Hot enough to start a fire?” 

Steve snorted. “Yes.”

“Well, can’t have that.” Tony pulled his hand away from his hole. “Even if I do know a hot as sin firefighter.”

“Oh, do you--” Steve gasped as Tony lowered onto his lap, rim catching at Steve’s head. “--now?” he managed to finish through a rough exhale. 

Tony lowered himself onto Steve cock with the skillful grace of a dancer until his back slotted against Steve’s chest, thighs landing on Steve’s. He stilled for a second, but before Steve could catch his breath, Tony had found the beat of the music again, rolling his hips just like before only this time Steve was buried deep inside him. 

It shouldn’t be so hot but it was, how an outsider would only see Tony’s rolling hips in his lap, none the wiser that with every twitch of his hips he was rippling around Steve’s cock.. Tony danced, making Steve’s cock shift inside him, run along new depths deep within Tony. Steve could feel every inch of him, claim him from the inside and out as he traced lovebites down Tony’s neck the next time his undulations brought him close enough. “Still miss me?” Tony asked, purposefully clenching around Steve. 

“Want even more of you now,” Steve growled. 

Tony’s hips ground down in reply, and Steve knew he hit his prostate by the way a whimper broke from his throat. “Well--” Tony began between thrusts, “good thing you’re marrying me.” 

Warmth burst in Steve's chest, affection mixing with his heightened arousal. Tony’s pace quickened, determined, now that he found that spot deep inside. Steve slid his hands around his waist, running up his chest to feel Tony’s dance under his hands. Arousal built as Tony moved, everything narrowing down to places their bodies met, the feel of Tony around him, over him; he wanted to touch Tony moments after he knocked on his apartment door all those months ago, expecting to do an investigation and instead finding the rest of his life.

Steve held Tony tighter, thrusting up into his heat, hand coming around to stroke his cock. Steve was so close but he wanted Tony to fall over the edge first, he wanted--

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. “Room five? Hurry up in--!”

Tony shuddered around Steve’s cock, surprise making his entire body tense in Steve’s arms as he spilled over Steve’s fist. Shock startled a single laugh out of Steve before his own hips stuttered up and he pulsed deep into Tony. 

It was Tony who started laughing first, shaking in Steve’s arms and the movement made another burst of come spill from Steve’s cock. He clutched Tony to him, shaking in a mix of laughter and aftershocks as he breathed his way back down.

Tony leaned back and kissed him, just as the man started knocking on the door again. Tony ignored him, laughing again. “Guess we’re even now, when it comes to stripshows.”

“I don’t know,” Steve said, resting his head against Tony’s back. “This might’ve beat mine, even the one with the pole.” 

“Well,” Tony hummed, still wiggling in Steve’s lap, even as the man outside shouted something about the manager--Rhodey and Sam were going to kill them. “You’ll have a lifetime to try to surpass it.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
